All Me Past Life
by Wicked R
Summary: Willingly, or less willingly, Jack Sparrow and John Wilmot change places. A Libertine crossover.
1. Chapter 1

Title: All Me Past Life

Author: WickedRum

Disclaimer: I have no right to use these characters, Disney does. Poems by John Wilmot. This is mainly for my own enjoyment.

Summary/Set: Captain Teague has some special plans for his two sons. A Libertine crossover.

Rating: NC 17, pretty much for language only.

Warning: kitschy nonsense, but I couldn't resist.

Pairing: several! This is Wilmot we're talking about here, and Jack!

Genre: drama/romance, crossover

"It took you long enough to get here, boy," Captain Teague set down his guitar next to his chair, which was usually considered as the big privilege of the keeper of the code granting someone permission to address him.

"I'm no takin the job," Jack stated, walking to stand at the other side of the table his father was sitting at.

"Nobody asks ye to be the keeper of the code, lad."

"What ye orderin misself here fe then? I've got good business to attend to."

"Sit Jackie," Teague ordered him with a prolonged raise of his eyebrows, "this be family business."

"Ye dyin?" Jack voiced his thoughts bluntly. He would've hardly cared if that was the case. Although it was beneficial in some circumstances to have a foot in Shipwreck City as the son of the much feared keeper, he hardly ever used that advantage, the legend Captain Jack Sparrow was his own making and didn't have much to do with his origins, especially if talking about his real ancestry. As for caring for Teague as a person, that stopped too when he was eleven, the time when Teague, formerly known as the Irish Henry Wilmot, named Earl of Rochester for military services had enough of his controlling and god fearing wife, took off abroad with Jack and sent fake letters back about their death, moving to their permanent home in the Caribbean. As a child, little Jack suffered a lot because of the climate at first, but most importantly he never forgave Teague for separating him from his twin brother Johnny and the fact that although Jack was the first born, Johnny was the favored chosen one for the title of Lord of Rochester for his cleverness and feel for the arts. If not for the caring woman Teague picked up on one ordinary drunken night in a pub, the woman Jack called mum, he probably would've not survived. And now that mother was dead too, what family matter could Teague talk to him about? Did he even have a right to mention the word family to him?

Teague gave him an admonitory look, but ignored the question, sliding the bottle of rum in front of him over to Jack on top of the table, "help yerself."

"An affable drink wit an ol friend then, ei?" Jack gave a little sarcastic smile, but he wasn't going to say no. The keeper of the code was always provided with the highest quality of the stuff.

"I want ye to help yer brother."

Jack almost choked on the sweet liquid. "What?? Me? How?" He said between coughs.

"Yer meant to do what the king says," Teague recited as if for himself. That was certainly the case as far as the code and he was concerned, let that be the pirate king or the English one. Hasn't he served Charles II well during his exile under the Commonwealth? Hasn't he accepted Elizabeth Swann's mad war on the navvy? Yet there he goes, the boy he favored over the other, John Wilmot, making fun of the king in public and forcing himself into exile, hunted by all royalists. "The Caribbean is far enough, but it's better for Johnny to disappear altogether. Signior Dildo!! What kind of piece is that to honor the king with?"

Jack looked on a little confused, still trying to clear his throat. He certainly wasn't up to date with the literary works of the contemporary British Empire, may that be his brother's writings or not. But he did hear about Johnny's antics, his impertinence and relationship to the king, not to mention the legend of his endurance in bed, his magnetism amongst the ladies and his love for the drink. Not to mention he was a hero in a sea battle against the Dutch. A true twin brother, just like him, his life was about adventure, wenches and some equivalent of rum, and being chased by the navvy now. And then it dawned on him. Did Teague just mention the Caribbean? "Is he here? Is Johnny here?"

"Aye Jackie. He is. But yer no going to meet him. I have other, more important plans for you. As for Johnny, he'll sail out tonight on the Pearl as Captain Jack Sparrow."

Jack raised to oppose when he felt a numbing feeling on his neck. It did register with him that somebody must've hit him, but he couldn't react. Only darkness followed.

Tbc


	2. Who Art Ye?

Chapter 2: Who Art Ye?

Joshamee Gibbs watched what appeared to be his captain walking down the peer back towards the Pearl in the company of two wenches of some doubtful profession, a little later than expected. He wasn't worried about it, although they were not even meant to dock there and should've well been on their way to their yearly rendezvous with the Empress trading eastern with Spanish Main goodies (and whatever else Jack and Mrs. Turner was up to in those quarters of hers for hours each time), Jack would've probably not been able to pass by the many pubs of Shipwreck City harbor without having a taste, even if he forbid the crew to do so as they were supposed to be in a hurry. Gibbs however, did take the chance and popped into one of those himself, just for a few drinks and well in time before Jack got back, "I took care of the provisions, Jack," he reported, meaning the rum, they had everything else they needed, but the crew had to be kept quiet somehow too, especially that they weren't allowed to set foot on land right now.

"Very well. Uhm, rum? Just rum?" John didn't like rum, he could drink it, it was alcohol, but he much preferred wine.

"Were we supposed to get anything else captain?" Gibbs asked confused.

John shrugged. It was way too early to start behaving different than what Jack would've been like in front of his first mate Teague talked about. Gibbs was thought of as a loyal man, good protection to have around, but not if he figured something was off about his captain. He was just like his Alcock, he thought, ready to walk a good few miles for him, but staying just so he can have a share of his money, that must've been it with the old man too. "Rumbullion will do just fine."

Gibbs was already looking at him with a hint of uncertainty. Jack's hair looked a tad lighter and it was as if his goaty would've been smaller. Was it the moonlight? And what's with..."ye didn't let the wenches comb yer hair, did ye?" He leaned closer to ask and looked at him with a certain amount of disgust.

"A lover's wish should not be counted shame," John tilted his head, having to explain himself.

"Should I give the order to lift anchor, Jack?"

"Yes, you may Gibbs," he hoped he remembered the name right, "I shell part from you dears now," he turned towards Shipwrecks City's best whores as Gibbs had to admit. "From thine arms let me fly and ask me not when I return!" He ambled on board, disregarding them from now on.

Gibbs stood a little confused before following. Was Jack not talking strange? Well, he was usually talking a bit more proper whenever he was coming back from seeing his father, whatever the reason may be. But when he leaned closer to him earlier he had a whiff at him. Jack was drunk all right, but the smell! It was rumfastian, a mixture of of brew, liquor, fortified wine, raw eggs, and spices, along with some fine red wine. Did Captain Teague drink that and that's why? It didn't make any sense. Why would Jack drink wine? And most importantly why is he walking straight and just how is that possible? And where is he going?? Why is he heading towards his quarters? He had to run after him after his reverie to catch up with him, "ye no going to lead us out?" He questioned. Shipwreck Cove was a dangerous place for any ship with many rocks and reefs and openings, one had to know their way around to get out from the secret place safely and the captain of a ship would usually not give the wheel over to anyone till then were out in the open waters.

John stumbled over some rigging before turning back to answer, "can a captain not have his rest when he needs it?" He frowned. He'd hardly been on deck and over the wavy water for under a minute and there goes, the reason he had to give up being in the navvy, not that he cared much, his sea sickness. Damn this ship, Charles and the whole affair! It'll not be hard to figure out he's not Jack if that starts! He swallowed. Well, there was always alcohol to sort everything, he was used to being given it any time he asked for it, "now where's the fucking drink?"

Gibbs opened his eyes wide. Jack weird. What were the odds? Well, Jack was supposed to be the embodiment of weird, so a strange night, it wasn't all that much out the ordinary was it? For the once, he'll just let it be. He was a pirate enough to get the Pearl out of the Cove himself.

tbc


	3. Touching Base

Chapter 3: Touching Base

Jack groaned and rubbed the back of his head before sitting up. Given movement hurt his neck he was happy he didn't have to look around much to figure out where he was. Not much has changed in the spacious captain's quarters of the Fledgeling Witch, Teague's ship he has spent half of his childhood on. His father couldn't be far either, the sound of the guitar was loud and as if coming from above him. He stood, dizzy and with a certain amount of deja vu. That's when he noticed it. Bar from his long white shirt his clothes were missing, along with his effects, his bandana and most importantly, his hat! Next to him a pile of clothing, a long coat, a ridiculous pair of tightslike trousers and shoes with a long nose. His father's old clothes from just before becoming a pirate and if he had any chance of going outside to talk to him, or even escape, he had to wear them! He grunted angrily, rolling his eyes as he gave in to his fate and marched up to the poop deck, where Teague was sitting, briefly acknowledging from the landscape that they were somewhere near some outer islands of the Bahamas.

"Ah! If we could do something about that posture of yours, you could almost pass as a lord."

"I am a lord. Pirate lord. Have ye forgotten? What makes ye think I'll not get away from here? If I was able to do so when I was only a lad, why no now?"

"What makes you think you would want to flee? Don't you remember Jack Wilmot, Earl of Rochester how it was to be served, unquestioned by anyone? Don't you remember the temper tantrums you privileged me with for taking you away from your precious black horse Pearl? Taking you away from your nanny and swarmy funny London?"

"Ye made sure I forget, remember?"

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like?"

"No any time lately, thank you very much. Me crew serves me cause they like me, cause I give them what they need. Captain Jack Sparrow, savvy?"

"Would you not go back Jack, if you could?"

"To live on land??" Jack looked at his father as if he had gone mad, "without me Pearl?"

"Would only be temporarily. I can't trust Johnny you see. He'll just upset the king again and there'll be nothing delivered."

"I thought ye said he was already in the bad books wit the king."

"Oh, talk proper boy, you must remember how! I can! The king," he waved, "he loves Johnny really, if he didn't he would be dead by now, I mean he should be with what he had done. Yet there's this letter from him to Johnny, you know what it says? He'd thought about putting him in the Tower, he even considered putting his head on a spike. But he'd decided on something else. He's simply condemning him to be himself for the rest of his days."

"What is it with these questions, can ye live with yerself? What's so bad about that?"

"Maybe not for you," Teague gave in, "and that's why you are the one going back instead of him. I never even showed the king's letter to Johnny."

"Uh? I'm going back? What ye mean I'm going back?"

"I mean we're sailing to London and you, as the king's friend, you are going to give him what he wants and come back with letters of marque from the British Empire that free at least fifteen of our ships from being constantly chased by the fleet. I can keep knocking you out for the whole time of the journey, or you can accept being the Earl of Rochester, as you always were. Freedom, Jack. Walk freely, act freely, come back with documents that make your ship free. Is it not worth the effort? If you don't want it afterwards, Johnny can have it all back. But isn't this what you always dreamed of as a boy?"

tbc


	4. Crowned

Chapter 4: Crowned

"The Empress' on the bow!" Marty reported from the crow's nest and Gibbs sighed in relief. If Jack didn't hear that in his drunken slumber he was just going to leave it at that, he had to talk to Captain Elizabeth Turner by himself if at all possible about Jack's late crazy behavior. He had either went more mad, or he was ill, perhaps both. It could not be any further from Gibbs to be able to judge a man by his drinking, himself being a heavy drinker too, but lately Jack didn't seem to be able to stop. No day has passed without Jack emptying at least a bottle and provisions were already starting to run low. He had taken no interest in the sea charts, left him all the navigation, along with the steering of the ship. Instead, he was writing something, was no letter and it didn't look like a story either. Lots of burnt sheets, lots of burnt down candles, short scribbled lines with barrel loads. But the most odd thing was that Jack didn't talk to him much and even if he did, he was simply ordering him around. Jack had never treated him like a servant before, his first mate was his friend.

Fresh air! John suddenly felt like he needed to go on deck for some fresh air and another bottle of rum since no better drink was available. Although he was starting to get a taste for the sweet liquid and had plenty of time to jot down stray lingering rhymes, he wasn't enjoying the journeying overall. That's what they were always doing, pointless cruising around for prey, even if with the doubtful destination of meeting some other ship. Not to mention this boat seemed to be rockier than most, but he had to give that much to Jack, it did remind him of the once unruly horse they used to have in their stables, Pearl, the only mare he never managed to conquer. Not to mention the boredom on this ship. Shanties could just not compare to theater and no women on board? That was torture. Men, well, the only one he thought worthy of fancying was his supposed to be first mate, but he could hardly do anything about it, that would've certainly gave him away. Or would it have? He had no idea about Jack's sexual orientation, but he had no children. On top of it, this sea sickness from time to time. He held tight onto the rail, not giving himself much chance to move without any embarrassing incidents and kept his eyes fixed on the horizon, the least moving point till...a female voice? He had to turn.

"Welcome aboard, Mrs. Elizabeth," Gibbs said, cursing under his breath that he didn't have that time he was hoping for with the captain of the Empress.

John rolled his eyes. Elizabeth. The first woman he meets in weeks and she has to be called Elizabeth out of all the names in the world! Just like his wife, and just like Lizzie Barrie, the love of his life. But she was beautiful. With the strong willed posture and the tall stature, she was not exactly his type, but there was something in her eyes, a certain sadness that could only have its roots in love. A challenge she was all right.

"I'm happy to see everybody safe," Elizabeth smiled with a hand on Gibbs' shoulder, then turned to approach him, "Jack, you're late. I was getting worried," then she stopped short before actually enclosing him in an embrace, "something did happen, right?" She stared at him for a moment. The self righteous expression was there, but not the all knowing smirk he always had on when meeting her. And he was a little cleaner! She looked back at Gibbs.

The first mate nodded, then shrugged, "whatever it was he wouldn't tell us. But it happened at Shipwreck Cove."

John rolled his eyes again. Had he not put those annoying and clattering beads into his hair right? Elizabeth, another person who must know Jack well, so debauchery aside, he had to behave like she expected Jack to comport himself. Unless...why is she hovering so close his face?

Elizabeth locked her arm into John's pulling him towards his quarters. The last time she saw him so morose and secretive was when he didn't tell them the Kraken was after them/him. He didn't trust them back then, and as far as she was concerned with good reason, as it turned out, but Elizabeth hoped they'd moved on from there with her going back after him to the Locker, with Jack saving her Will for her, not to mention that they'd become as cozy as if they would've been lovers over the last few years, laughing, crying and talking their way though those blessed drunken nights they were both looking forward to every year. She could make him talk, she was sure of that, she had learned that art of persuading Jack so well, although she hardly used it to her advantage. It would've been unfair, she knew Jack loved her like they were family and all she had to do was be sad about something and he'd try to change that. "Is the matter concern of the pirate king?" She started, given the trouble occurred at the secret hiding place of pirates,"of the Brethren Court? Your father?" She tried to guess, fretting, then her gaze remained stuck to him, "Jack, where's your tan? You're not ill are you?" She raised a hand to his cheek in an intimate manner, like a lover would've.

There was only one way to silence those questions. If those two were lovers, he surely knew what to do. He grabbed her arms and yanked her towards him, pressing himself and his well awakened member to her stomach.

She was pushed backwards by its strength right till the bulkhead in a similar fashion to how she once pushed Jack back to the mast, surprised and unable to refuse the fierce, but tantalizingly sensual attack of his lips. She was hardly able to think. She missed Jack so much in between their meetings and she had to admit her thoughts about him were so often of a sexual nature, but he had always just represented the pull of the forbidden fruit for her. She wanted to speak, but her lips were engaged otherwise and her hands hesitantly went up to his midsection, not entirely sure whether they were doing so to push him away, or feel his tensed muscles as he gave all his body into the kiss. Her thoughts were becoming even more blurry, she parted her lips for a deep kiss and all she knew now how intoxicated she got by the feel of the delicate lips topped by the ticklish sensation caused by his mustache.

He was so quick with his hands, she suddenly realized her blouse was already unbuttoned and he was now exploring the bare flesh of her breasts, turning his tongue's attention towards them.

She gasped when the tip of his tongue gently flitted around her nipple, her ragged breath made her knees weak and she had to hold on to his back not to fall. What he was doing to her was really beguiling, very seductive. She closed her eyes and willed herself to fight against it. She's a married woman. For a while, her mind as if was watching from the outside as her hands moved round him and down to his trousers, angling for that spot where his engorged member resided. Her palm enclosed around it and the pleasure cursed through her as she took a deep breath though her nose. She had to stop this till she lost all control over herself. Yet her body was still curving to his, a blissed grin on her face. No! She swallowed and slid out of his hands along the bulkhead, then took a few hurried steps to stop as far as from him as she could in the small room, at the other side of the table.

John grunted and banged his head into the bulkhead as he was, where Elizabeth's been a moment ago, "why dost thou withdraw'st thy lovely being?" He grimaced, then blew the air out slowly, rubbing a hand over the front of his trousers.

Elizabeth was engrossed in whole different kind of why though. She had to concentrate on making her heart stop beating so wildly before managing with a shaky voice as she rummaged between what seemed like poems on the table. Poems about somebody called Lizzie. "You said once was enough, no more kisses, so why now?"

John opened his eyes wide, uncomprehending. Why again, and why on earth would Jack have enough of kissing her just the once?? Was he totally queer or what?

Tbc


	5. Familiarity Breeds

Chapter 5: Familiarity Breeds

The port of London filled Jack with anticipation as he took one of the boats of the clannish guild of water men that ferried Londoners from landing to landing and tolerated no outside interference. He was on his way towards the inside of the old roman city walls on the river Thames, the world's busiest waterway, center of the mercantile British Empire. Most things were remarkably the same, just like he remembered them, having been imprinted in his mind last time he saw it as he believed it to be the last. Thirty years even could not change much, the signs left after the great firestorm were still visible on the walls and what's been rebuilt seemed just the same as the rest of the heart of the city, a wooden, northern and makeshift congestion of houses. His destination wasn't exactly abominable to him, the Temple Bar on the corner of Fleet Street where he could probably meet Johnny's so called friends was a public house after all and it must've been selling some rum for lost sailors. If he was lucky, the king would be present too since it has long been custom that any royal would stop there before entering the city. If he was really lucky, which he doubted, that would be what he came for sorted. Charles was always supposed to forgive Johnny, and for some reason he was sure it was more than just because his father risked life and limb hiding the little king up an oak tree once.

Missing his boots, he swore getting rid of the excess heavy street mud and who knows what else that was sticking to his shoes and clothing by shaking his feet, listening to the sounds coming from inside the bar. He hesitated under the Portland stone arch, his father was back on his way to Madagascar, it would be his own decision to go any further. He rubbed his chin, letting it go right away startled for the lack of facial hair and put his palm on the top of his sword he was wearing instead. A sword, pretty much the only thing reminding him of his own self confidence. As long as he had his sword he felt able to get himself out of any situation, so why not? "A bottle of rum!" He shouted to the bartender. He would certainly not recognize Johnny's friends, he had to make it known loud he had arrived so they could come to him.

"Credit, my lordship Rochester?"

Jack lifted the bottle back up a little towards the barkeep in appreciation. Good, there will be no doubt in people's minds about him being Johnny. Why did he question himself anyway, if he was good impersonating a Spanish royal navy officer or a cleric of the Church of England, why should he have a problem with his own brother? He was Lord Rochester, he smiled to himself till he turned and almost bumped into a man.

"Rum?" The person said, "I'd propose you save a drink for a couple of chums, but rum? Must adjust that little detail about you in my play the Man Of Mode," he laughed. His slow mannerisms, his laid back attitude, it was Cutler Beckett looking like he was trying to give him a hug.

"We were aching for you Johnny," another man approached him from the side.

Jack made a couple of unadjusted steps backwards and drew his sword. He didn't know what kind of code Beckett was talking about, but to meet him out of all people, somebody who could give his real identity away!

"The gaudy nonsense is still the same!" George Etherege continued, patting him on the shoulder and not worried by the sword. Johnny might've killed Billy, but that was so different, he knew his friend well. He pointed right at it, "he's still drunk, he's still mad, isn't he Charles?" He addressed the man to his side.

Jack tilted his head towards him, "and I thought of coming to a special bit, eh? Spectral, nondenominational, grammatical? I arrive and yer here hiding from the shame of having lost half of the fleet to a bunch of pirates?"

"Who? Gentle George?" Sir Charles Sedley shook his head, befuddled, "did you finally write a play? About pirates and George??"

"Should be appropriate giving the favor back," George acknowledged, suspiciously eying the blade now closer to his body. "Humble kind of error it's all it is. You know how I love you. If this is about Lizzie I'll explain. Yes, she had my daughter, but she first had yours and you were away. Where the fuck were you anyway?"

"Lizzie! What have you done with Lizzie?!" Sword forgotten, Jack just grabbed George by the throat like he was nothing more than a puppy. He would hardly ever use brute force, but for what's Beckett done it was on instinct. If he ever wanted to kill a man, this was him. No, he needed to kill him.

Tbc


	6. Grasp

Chapter 6: Grasp

"Jack Jack, I don't understand what are these?" Elizabeth took one of the sheets of paper from the table and started to read, "but, oh! how slowly minutes roll.  
absent from Lizzie's eyes  
That feed my love, which is my soul,  
It languishes and dies.

For then no more a soul but shade  
It mournfully does move  
And haunts my breast, by absence made  
The living tomb of love. Jack why do you write about me?"

"Is it not clear?" John used the sameness of the names to his own advantage, "then the words are all wrong. I don't know why I even try to write them down..."

"No, no Jack, you never told us where you come from, but by the way you talk sometimes, the way you behave and honor the customs, it's patent you and Teague are nobility. The words in the verse are fine, the words are wonderful. And to find out like this...I never hoped for you to love me for what I've done to you. You don't need the gloomy writing as beautiful as it it, that sadness is not necessary. You should've just asked me Jack. There was Will, but I always loved you too. I tried to shake it, focus on my husband, but not even when I sent you down with the Kraken could I banish you from my heart. All I could think of was getting you back in my arms. Away from you, I suffer and that's the truth."

A whore with sentiment, John muttered under his breath and rolled his eyes at her passion filled and inspired look before closing up to her. What she was saying necessitated some further action. "Shhh..." He leaned down so that he could put his palms under her thighs and lifted her up onto the top of the table, then swiped the excess clutter off it. Supporting her back with one hand he brought the other forward so he could stroke up and down her thighs. He could feel her soft skin under the fabric, he was sure she would be much sensitized there. He slid closer, not just his demanding fingers digging into the side of her legs, but his solid, warm cock was rubbing against her too.

She hissed a breath, then held the air in, he was barely making contact with the valley between her legs, but he could already feel her wetness making her trousers damp. What a waste. He moved his hand up to her belt to undo it and found his way quickly inside the fabric and to her hot cunt, but he only agitated both of them with his ways. He was raring and not exactly used to not being served in bed, or otherwise, but by her non active participation apart from quiet moans he could tell she wasn't very experienced. Well, that should change over the next few months, but for now, he had to work for his own pleasure. Before she could grasp what was happening he lifted her up again for a moment and slipped her trousers smoothly off her.

Her eyes opened wide for a moment when he moved out of her reach to take his own trousers off, for a bit she thought he had changed his mind and she hugged him all the more when he rubbed his now bare cock against her once more. With her head on his shoulder she could make out his heart beating wildly as he elevated her legs to guide his manhood into the right position and out of those two it was the heart beat that startled her, adding so much more and so much difference to the passion in their encounter than she had experienced with Will, his silent chest conveying an eerie emptiness about him. Her lips were instinctively drawn to that place Jack's heart resided, her tongue drunkenly licked it in little slow circles through the opening of his shirt. It was the only thing she was doing really, and not as much because she was unversed, but more so because she was giving herself over completely to him. Awing was the wizardry his hands were doing to her low back, that beautiful body under her fingertips making her feel as if she was raptured by a storm and taken up to the skies and close to the sun, burning, so burning like the sun itself. His knowing touch brought crimson to her face, she was choking with sizzling wanting, sweat pearls on her soft skin from her inner heat he just ignited.

He sucked at her shoulder with his eyes shut, seized in the moment, it has been a while since somebody wanted him that much he felt her wanting him or well, Jack, not to mention it's been a while since he even had a chance for making love with anyone. Primary urges satisfied his wild motions slowed down to his more favored slow, erotic pace he'd only honored three women with so far, Lizzie Barrie, Jane and his wife. Now this other Elizabeth too, savoring him up with her immense love. At this moment John Wilmot would've given anything to truly be Jack Sparrow.

Tbc


	7. Forecast

Chapter 7: Forecast

George ended up showed back a few feet and on the top of a table, but he was still trying to squeeze out words his mouth, "Johnny..."

"No!" Charles shouted and motioned his servants to throw themselves at Jack to tear him off George, "Johnny listen to me, back off! Come on, gentlemen together. Do you really think easy Etheredge's up to anything that would endanger him? He's too much dastardly for that," he tried all his best to convince his friend to calm down. "Not to mention that little whore horse face Lizzie Barrie charges by the minute."

Jack drew back, not sure who to punch first, his confusion giving enough advantage to the servants to pull him back. He shook his head from the hook he just received from somebody, trying to clear his head. What where these people talking about? And who? Lizzie Barrie? Not his Lizzie? And they all called him Johnny, even Beckett. With his disguise on, does Cutler Beckett really thinks he is the Earl of Rochester? Does he know his brother? Cutler Beckett and Johnny friends? What does that make Johnny then? If he doesn't stop behaving this way they'll will figure out he's not who he's pretending to be.

George cleared his throat horsely and stood, "my, you are strong. O'th' better sort's ashamed to know ye!" He waved for the servant to bring his drink, "I was to see her tonight, but your old mistress? You can meet the one whose charms you have look'd on with delight after theater tonight. I'll take you myself and then she can tell you herself. She's loves and is married to the plays, not mere authors."

"Actress?" Jack tried to guess.

"And that in heart too, Johnny. Mindless of me, that parlous eros you must shun or else you will always be quite undone," George dared to move close again, in fact he dared to put a hand on his shoulder, leaning on him from the side. He wrote a play about this man. John was hotheaded and passionate all right, but a murdered he was not, just a likable chap he had the privilege to have so much fun with in the past and hoped to do so more, "still friends then Johnny? I can't watch you risk yourself all the time."

Jack grinned and answered promptly, "yes." Whoever the man was, at the moment he had to play along.

"Well, suddenly thinking high of me, are you Johnny?" George joked, "well, you will get to see my other drama tonight."

"Yes, some new unheard-of play for us," Charles taunted in the usual way the circle of friends, noble wits behaved with each other, "oh and here's dear William," he turned, making Jack's heart almost stop again. Of course, there were many Williams in the world, but at this moment in time everything startled him.

"How is your play going along Wycherly? You don't know him yet Johnny! New playwriter, near replaced you," George quieted his voice and whispered into Jack's ears, "somebody told me he's like Billy, you know if you fancied him..."

This made Jack open his eyes wide again. Men, or women now? Could Johnny not decide? He was still unsure of talking though, those educated ways didn't come back yet, not to mention talking in rhyme? He could make up a lot of nonsense, but since his behavior was erratic enough earlier, maybe that wasn't the best option. He will wait till the occasion arises.

"We must hurry, won't we be late?" The newcomer suggested.

"Oh, we would want Johnny to gawp at my triumph!" George hooked his arm with him, pulling him to some carriage with the rest of the merry gang.

Someone had planted a cup in his hand and from the bouquet, he would not mind drinking those contents. "The king? Will he be there?"

"Some advice Johnny. Forget the king, once and for all," George suggested.

"How about minding your welcome back to London spurt instead?" Charles cackled.

"Let us take care  
Each minute be with pleasure past:  
Were it not madness to deny  
To live because we're sure to die?" George burst into verse again, clearly in the mood and by the end of their short journey Jack was convinced that he had only mistaken the bohemian poet for the cold and calculating Lord Cutler Beckett. There was no way this was the chairman of the East India Trading Company. It's a well known fact that everybody has a double somewhere in the world, that just had to be the explanation...

tbc


	8. To Be Exact

Chapter 8: To Be Exact

Lying spent and satisfied on Jack's bunk, John was absently licking Elizabeth's fingers salaciously, so abstracted by fabricating a verse in his mind after the new experience of making love on a rocking boat that he hardly noticed Elizabeth pulling her hand away and sliding off the bed. The sound that made him aware of his surroundings was the clicking sound of his own pistol being cocked, held up at his head by his not so long ago lover.

Her hands were only a little bit shaking when she grabbed his shirt and ripped the front of it open, "where are the scars? You're not Jack are you?"

"What? What the hell are you talking about?"

"Even with the scars, I would know damn well for sure you're not Jack behaving so different towards me."

"Care to explain?"

"For one, trying to seduce me in such a ruthless way, Jack's above that, pirate or not! Where is he? Calypso thought you any spells in revenge?"

"Do you believe in spells and ghost stories, Elizabeth?"

"He never calls me Elizabeth either."

John sighed in a dramatic way, giving in, "I don't know where your Jack is. Probably still with father. You shouldn't blame Jack though, he had no idea and neither had I. Only wanted to go into hiding and then my father planted me on this ship, there was no way back "

"You're coming from Shipwreck Cove," Elizabeth nodded in understanding, "with...father? You're...you're brothers," she drew her conclusions, but didn't lower the gun, "where are the charts?" Her eyes wandered to the sick bucket, "you're not a sailor are you? Do you know there's no time now? Teague knew this and yet he had sent you! We'll just have to attack as we are. Can you wield a sword?"

"Can I wield a sword? Who do you think I am? Some wanton weak hinged remnant?"

Elizabeth lowed a gun and laughed, "poet?" She shrugged as if the word would've explained everything and nodded towards the scattered papers that had landed on the floor earlier, "some noble blood, a whole different fish, not?" She watched with hardly contained amusement as the impostor suddenly jumped up with an unmistakable expression and leaned over the bucket just in case.

"Fish? I hate fish. Who are we going to attack?"

"The Dutch sugar island of Saint Eustace really belongs to us, we're just taking it back. But we'll have to make sure you're up for it first," she shook her head, "then we go back for Jack," she sat on the bed thinking, "you know, for the sake of the crew's trust in you, we should keep quiet you're not Jack for a while longer."

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	9. Fog

Chapter 8: Fog

Jack was looking around the theater lobby befuddled. It was a bit as if he would've been in a pub in Tortuga, wenches calling out his name in both good and bad ways, and men either looking up at him amazed by his antics or acting like his deadly enemies for some past wrongdoing. It wasn't that hard to be Johnny, if not for these rhymes...he'll have to come up with some soon.

"No wife this time I hope?" A woman stepped in front of him.

"Wife?" He repeated. Was he supposed to have a wife? He paled a little.

George leaned close again, "you're looking like you need a good fuck from Jane now, Johnny. I wouldn't want you to miss my play for any reason so that passage under the stage you two should go to so you can still hear it?" He suggested.

Jane raised her eyebrows and walked down the passageway with him, "that spirit you've seen in Lizzie Barrie, with her talking above you on the stage, will it work for you John?" She pulled a few costumes out a box and lay them down on the floor, then pushed him down onto them.

Jack had no clue what she was talking about, but he would know what to do with a wench if the occasion arose. Jack Sparrow was known to be a famous lover in many ports. He smiled at her and touched her hair and face as she was working on his trousers. "Jane darlin," he voiced to familiarize himself with the situation. Of course he'd not known the name of every whore he's been with, but John seemed to have known this one pretty well. With his knuckles he traced down her neck softly and to the valley between her breasts and then kissed the same spot, his hand gliding up her arm and his fingers becoming entangled in her hair while his lips continued their slow and gentle exploration of her breasts, leaving a trail of tickly soft moisture from his tongue.

Jane pulled back a little and looked at him questioningly given his curious gentleness towards her (it has been a long time since he'd seen her perhaps?) before taking his cock into her palm, "shall I do you with mouth, arse, cunt or hands?"

"Uhm...that fast?" He would hardly shove his dick into anyone he had just met, not even in Tortuga, a few drinks were certainly needed first as lubricant to the act, "hands," he settled for that then.

"Lean back," she instructed and watched his familiar pout as he obliged. However the dreamy expression was missing, there were no poems fabricated on the spot out loud and he seemed rather curious than anything else.

She started rubbing the little prick between her fingers nevertheless. She cupped his balls with her other hand and then continued up and down his length when it got to a reasonable size at her knowing touch.

He soon started breathing deeper and came up one one elbow again to gently kiss her earlobe and his hands wandered under her skirt.

Maybe he wanted more than just her knowledgeable touch after all, she wondered. She pulled her breasts fully out her dress and towered over him on her hands and knees to enclose his cock between her sizable titties. She wanted to press them together to squeeze his gland, but by then he was at it himself and doing the rocking all by himself too. She narrowed her eyes in confusion, he'd always expected to be served before. He would meet a mistress half way, maybe a wife, but not a whore! "John?"

She didn't have much time to contemplate it though, she felt herself sticky where the tip of that cock touched her and she reached to rub his precum around, making him gasp and freeze for a moment. Well, he ordered hands, didn't he? So that was what she was doing.

"Wha?" He reached down too and in between her legs and rubbed her intimate parts with his palm delicately, then one finger wandered into her opening, his ringed fingers teasing on the outside and acting as a sort of obstacle that stopped him from going deeper. She couldn't help moaning and wanting him fully inside her. Was she allowed to initiate anything without his lordship's consent? If he tossed her, it wasn't just the money, she could never admit to him how much she cared, he wouldn't like that. Yet she couldn't help it, she hadn't seen him for so long, not even knowing if she ever will, her carnal drives took over and when he moved his hand to grab her buttocks and pull them closer to him she used the same motion to come down and onto his cock in a oner as deep as it could go. It felt like claiming him and she later thought he should've discarded of her for that. But he didn't.

Instead, he pulled her closer for a kiss for a completely different reason. In all his straying around her skin he had finally came up with that rhyme! And what good was it if he couldn't tell her, whisper it in her ear before he forgot it. His whole face lit up with excitement, Captain Jack Sparrow could make rhymes too, why not, he'll get into it, now that he'd figured it it's just like talking his nonsense mind as he usually does! "Practice Jane and we shall prove  
These are truly sweets of love."

From the glimmer in his eyes he had really meant it! He was fabricating verse lines about her! May it be passing, she will never forget this moment, when she almost completely and fully owned her everlasting love John Wilmot!

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	10. Brand

Chapter 9: Brand

John swung Jack's cutlass at Elizabeth. She moved out of harm's way with no difficulties, even in the relatively small confinement of the captain's quarters on the Pearl where she'd insisted on seeing Lord Rochester in action. "Come again!"

John tried a thrust, but Elizabeth side stepped him, "again!" He clutched the weapon annoyed. This woman was playing with him, having fun of his expense for sure! He hardly took reins well, especially from a woman, that was one of the reasons why his relationship with his mother was so bad.

"Just hold it, don't clench your fingers round the hilt, it will hinder your aim," she explained, "again!"

He adjusted his weight, holding the cutlass with two hands instead, he had to give it was different from the thin swords he was used to. He came with some rapid strokes, but Elizabeth was once again able to block it. He even felt he was clumsy against her swiftness. That particularly bothered him. He had his sword unsheeted and yet he wasn't quick enough to help Billy Downs either the once when it counted.

She pulled back and called, "again!"

Maybe with manly strength? He attacked with so much force sparks were flying off the two blades. She nearly fell, but as she let him close she only did so to hit him in the head with the butt of the cutlass. She sneered at the dazed writer though, leveling her sword and pointing the tip steadfastly at him, "learned it from Jack, no fairness in fights. There's little Jack can't or won't do and you'll have to be the same cause there won't be the whole navy behind you to protect you while you're playing hero. Again!"

"Fuck! What??" John was now sweating, "there was nothing amiss with my attack! You cheated!"

"You know what was amiss. Again!"

"We've done this twenty times today!" He protested.

"And we will do it twenty more."

"Nobody speaks to me like that!"

"Precisely! Nobody will spare you in battle either for being the side kick of the king."

"That's because you're attacking a whole island with two ships."

"Four. Gentleman Jocard's two will join us, he's the only other pirate lord we can trust since Jack raided some of the slave ships taking people away from Jocard's homeland. Which brings us to why you haven't been taking captain responsibilities for weeks. Can you navigate?"

"I matriculated at Wadham College, Oxford at age twelve and at fourteen I was conferred with the degree of Magister Artium, do you know what that means?"

"Art will not save you. I repeat, can you navigate or do we have to tell everyone who you are?"

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	11. Extracurricular Activities

Chapter 11: Extracurricular Activities

"Forgive me my lord," a familiar voice could be heard, "but we would need those costumes you're lying on with most utmost urgency."

"Mr. Harris!" Jane shrieked and arranged her clothes back into place.

The stage actor rolled his eyes, "nothing I haven't seen before. My Lord Rochester! I've heard you went into exile, who would expect you back so soon and under the theater too!" You couldn't miss the sarcasm in that voice.

Jack stood, dusting his clothes warily. Another double? Or were they in fact playing him? Mr. Harris however didn't lay his eyes on him once more and darted off with the necessary items.

"Plenty more costumes left," Jane suggested they should continue their previous activity.

"No, take me back to my friends," Jack intended to find more out about this Mr. Harris and keep an eye on him.

"After all that, we end up going nowhere now too," she sighed, referring to their unfinished act. She never wanted to care for a man, but how could she not fall in love with a lovesick one because of another? Only question was, did he want to go back to the seats to see Lizzie Barrie on the stage? Was he still in love with her? She would not find out now, she was not allowed to follow him into a garret box at a place like Duke's theater they were watching the play from, the king's possible presence would not allow that.

Wine cup shoved in his hand, Jack sat down at the front of this box, taking only a fleeting look at the actress in the middle of some large boring monologue on the stage, he was searching the rows for anybody else he could recognize in case this was all a trap. He sighed relieved when he could move a little more freely not having to fear he'd make too much noise as singing started, maybe something he'd actually enjoy. He was a little started when George patted his shoulder, "good timing Johnny. That was one of the principal parts. Do you not like it? I wasn't expecting you to laugh at the right bits, but not even a smile? I know what it is, it's too good, isn't it? Too good and you feel you haven't got the gift, but I do."

"I will pass judgment at the end," Jack hoped he could come up with something if not else, but how to get himself out this predicament.

"You know how I think it's not worth one farthing if we do not discover ourselves in it, and do not find in it both our own manners and those of the persons with whom we live and converse. At least guess who this one's about. I give you one clue. It's not you," George kept whispering in his ear.

"Or perhaps you should give us a render of the French neo-classical form, to which courtiers exiled like you had become accustomed," Charles teased from the other side. They were all expecting him to join that conversation.

Jack raised his eyebrows and looked around the stage, pretty much for the first time. From the dress, furniture and scene, it was somewhere in the country, but that was all he could tell. "Can't tell you what I think," Jack shifted in his seat uncomfortably, "you wouldn't believe the truth if I told you."

"The side character you should look at, played by Mr. Harris. This is how it's done Johnny," George continued with the self praise, "it's so subtle not even Mr. Harris knows about it or the king himself! A satire of Charles, no nose, no debauchery, no throne, but with many virtues and many great imperfections and a great number of illegitimate children...aaah! I hope he didn't hear that...Mr. Harris, aren't you supposed to be on the stage??"

"You might not be following the play Sir, I'm to have a quick change, but not before I deliver the king's message to my lord Rochester," the actor turned towards Jack, "you're not fully forgiven yet, you're supposed to go down to the country and wait word from him for audience. Soon. How please forgive me I've got to get into my attire."

"Banishing you again, oh!" George grumbled sympathetically towards Jack.

"This Mr. Harris with the king's message," Charles said thoughtfully, "curious to trust him with it, don't you think? Even if the king would be down there engaged with Lizzie."

"Haven't you heard?" George said himself flirting with a woman at the other side of the theater at the same time, "he was a commodore once and then he became nothing for letting a pirate loose or something like that."

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	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12: Manoeuvre

"I don't know if you can do it at all John," Elizabeth shook her head, "no offense, but you seem such a landlubber. I understand this Jocard knows Jack well too, from childhood I guess and although their were some recent differences between them, Jocard is still grateful to him for freeing some slaves. So you need to make a special effort today at the rendezvous to be like Jack," she tugged at John's sash, then frowned and adjusted it again just to jump back and take a big breath turning away, "that amount of rum, that's a good start, there's not too much trouble with the way you're walking on board since you're not used to the waves and you stumble all the time. Oh, that hat! The other way round and you better make sure you keep it safe..."

"I don't like the having clothes on religion," John stepped close to her again, fed up with all the lessons on how to be a pirate. He could remember those very well thank you very much from the times they played that together with Jack in the gardens of their Oxfordshire estate when their father occasionally joined them.

"Clothes are very important to who Jack is," Elizabeth continued, ignoring his look, "he takes pride in how he looks, what he's got and done. He impresses people on arrival. John, you got to talk. A lot. Yourself out of situations, or just talk for the sake of it, it doesn't matter if it makes sense or not. Try it. Talk yourself out of me fussing."

"That should be easy," he took one more little step to close the gap between them, "appearance, stance, impression, that's about the physical. Pathless and dangerous wand'ring ways it takes and reason will be lost."

Elizabeth lifted her chin up daring him to continue with his attempt at seducing her. Wrong choice as she happened to find herself mere inches from staring right into his bold eyes. The same brightness as Jack's, but with some more sadness thrown in, or perhaps he was worse at hiding it. Why didn't she move away from their hold? There were at least two steps in between her and the wall. "That's not what I meant when I said talk yourself out. And use words like lass, quarter or ol' salt."

Once he got hold of her gaze he would keep it. The sadness slowly disappeared from his look and gave to coquetry, "I strive to change your mind. All a lover's wish can reach,  
For thy joy my love shall teach cause our sphere of action is life's happiness,  
And he that thinks beyond thinks like an ass," he put his hand on the head of the chair she had her hand on and slid it along to draw slow circles on the top of hers. He tilted his head and now his breath was tickling her neck.

"Right vexer. That's nonsense all right, but not the right kind of nonsense Jack speaks. For some purposes though it will do. Oh, did I just speak in rhyme?" She was finally able to draw her eyes away from his deep brown pits of his soul, just to stare down at her hand instead. Not moving away, just like her. Odd. There was too much Jack in him, that was it, only that Jack wasn't that spoiled to take advantage of her. She wouldn't have minded if he did, but she couldn't just initiate such adultery herself, now could she?

"Asking me to talk, bad move Eliza." He had to call her somehow. The name Lizzie was occupied in his heart by the actress with the same name and Elizabeth was his wife.

She bit her lip, "the navigating lesson we should go back to," Elizabeth fought the impulse to turn her hand palm up and move it up sliding to his upper arm. But if he was John, could she not simply enjoy the moment and forget about it later since she's never going to see him again? No, that didn't make sense since it's really Jack she wanted. "Where were we last time on that subject?"

John groaned irritated, but his expression remained unchanged, that of desire and arousal. Just a little move of his upper body meant he was already rubbing against her chest, "freedom? So if love bades you want, why don't you obey?" He whispered into her ear.

Oh, she was going to obey all right, if this kept up. He must've known as well she was hardly able to resist him. It was her last futile effort before she gave in, "why don't you kiss the gunner's daughter?"

However, her prayers got answered as Gibbs burst into the room, apparently oblivious to the small distance between the people in the room, "Jocard's ships are approaching from astern. At first from a distance I thought he acquired a new one, but he didn't. It's the Papyri Kassite. The two lords are rowing over right now," he left just as quickly as he came.

Elizabeth jumped, "it's Barbossa's old ship. You remember me telling you about him?" Close as they still were, she took the chance to grab John by the arm and pull him to the open deck.

John raised his eyebrows a little at the amount of black people on board, all resting their hands at the hilt of their cutlasses, they were supposed to be allies, were they not? And then there was this tall chap with a rather grotesque face and an unfashionable round hat. He only eyed them for a moment though, he had to be in character, it was just like being on stage, "Gangway!" He shrugged Elizabeth off and inched through his crewmen to the visitors, "gentlemen," he greeted them on a light tone, "snooping around me ship won't get ye far Hector! Perturbing isn't it seeing yer favorite possession in somebody else's hands?" He drawled and mastered a shifty pirate smile too at Elizabeth's complete shock, along with some exaggerated hand gestures. She felt like patting him in the back for conforming to her expectations when...

Barbossa leaned his face close, frowning, "who be this fella and where be Jack?"

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	13. Sweet Scented

Chapter 13: Sweet-scented

Being shuggled about in a carriage on his way to his once home on some roads that were barely functional Jack felt like he was shaken to bits on a swampy ground in a much worse way the waves could ever do. On the mindbogglingly boring journey in the drizzling rain he took the chance to stop at an inn. People had been giving him clues as to how much of a drinker John was, something he could use to his advantage if he felt like it. What's more it seemed as if it was a necessity to his credibility as John being drunk all the time, people were surprised if he wasn't holding a cup in his hand and kept pouring wine into it. This time though, when nobody important could notice and he could loosen up it'll be rum. He bought two bottles at the inn and continued the journey in a much merrier way. This Beckett lookalike, this George had been so helpful to him without realizing it. Presenting him with a play with a John Wilmot alterego as the main character just before he parted from London was the best clue he could've ever had about how to behave like his brother. He was courtier, disdainful, self-conceited and prone to anger, amorous, dishonest and the most handy character trait of his was inconstancy! In other words, he could basically do anything, he'd still stay in character, he mused, his eyes wondering to his bottle with his fingers tight round its neck. Hell, he missed his rings from his fingers. He watched them move without them, mesmerized till the carriage came to a sudden halt, making him drop the emptied bottle.

"I'm sorry my lord," the driver said, "it's not far now, but the driveway won't do for the purpose again, so you'll have to go on."

Jack sleepily stumbled out onto the steps of the carriage. He had been waiting to see the house he spent the first few years of his life, but it was foggy, he could hardly make out anything. He took one more step and wished he hadn't. He found that his legs were stuck and his feet were not even visible under the mud. How do you sway about like normal drunken people do and catch your balance if your feet became roots of some trees and hold on to the soil? You don't, he found out, landing on his bottom.

"I could carry you in my lord," a stout individual said, hurrying in his direction from the house.

Jack waved the servant off, then wondered for a moment if he'd done the right thing. Would John have let himself being carried in? So on second thought he gave consideration to accepting at least some help, "pull me up," he reached out.

The hand that was given to him was strong and he was more or less hauled out of his current position, landing a few steps ahead of his servant, stumbling right in front of a woman.

"John?"

Jack squinted in his drunken stupor at the unknown and pleasant looking entity before him, than fell back onto his side in the mud by the force of the slap. Hey, it was just like Tortuga.

"Five months I haven't heard of you! How is it you never think of me, never even trust me as much to let me know my husband's safe!"

Jack rubbed his face with the sleeve of his coat, the only thing that wasn't muddy on him. The wife. It doesn't seem like a good relationship, "it's no that unsophisticated, the situation I fear my darlin." He struggled to stand up, the mud was slippery and he wasn't used to it, it had a completely different feel to it than sand.

"Should I carry him in now my lady?" The servant offered again.

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	14. Imperfect Tense

Chapter 14: Imperfect Tense

Pirate King or not, Elizabeth could hardly keep the events from spiraling out of control and it was the code itself that was her enemy this time. Suspicion being raised, John could not answer any of those questions Barbossa and Jocard quizzed him with, not to mention there was no excuse for him not knowing what beam reach or forestay meant. He was either not Jack, or too insane to be fit for captaincy. She should've known that the navigation lessons should've been their utmost priority and not reading his poems and him teaching her how to be a better kisser to the enjoyment of men. An impostor was no captain and as the crew agreed, John has found himself chained in the brig and Barbossa of course, ended up being captain. Now all she wanted to do was to sail off and find Jack, but she couldn't possibly get herself out of the agreement and take Saint Eustace.

It was Barbossa however, who helped her out of that one pretty quickly, having the much faster Pearl, he didn't care much what happened to the Papyri so they could fake a landwards attack on the fort which convinced the governor to shift his cannons, no matter how famous the island was for its selling arms to whoever paid more for it. This way the Pearl could dodge the enemy's gun completely and launch a real attack using a system of oars Barbossa implemented on one of the lower decks, with Jocard and Elizabeth's ships on tow.

Well packed up with ammunition and sugar as booty, Elizabeth got rid of most of it at her primary destination at a whatever price at Shipwreck Cove in great haste, especially that she now used her pirate king title and threatened some servants at Captain Teague's code keeper house and they have told her that the old man headed off for England with his son. For the first time it occurred to Elizabeth that perhaps Jack wasn't the victim in this, it was maybe John that was talked and frightened into hiding on the Pearl and Jack had taken his place as the Earl of Rochester on purpose. However it was, things were off track, surely Jack didn't plan losing his ship and she had to find him. The only thing that was on track was her, she was making good time towards the heart of the British Empire, the season favored the journey and she judged she couldn't have been all that far off in pursuing them. Having spent her early childhood in London, she found it quite easy to prepare herself and her wardrobe, she just had to remind herself she was the Jamaican governor's daughter, only better, cause she had all the money she would need whatever she ended up doing given all the wealth she gathered with recent piracy and all that was left to her as a successor of Sao Feng. Her inquiries as to where to find Lord Rochester sent her in the direction of a so called merry gang and with that, to the theater. Her heart jumped at the possibility, she had so much enjoyed this form of entertainment as a child and Norrington also used to sail over with her to San Juan for a rare performance once in a while. Would she have ever thought it will be piracy that took her to Lincoln's Inn Fields Theater, part of fashionable London as she was looking for somebody in the lobby she could ask about the merry gang's whereabouts?

"Elizabeth?"

She turned, unbelieving. He had no uniform, no sword, but a really silly curly wig and clothes as if he was just coming from ancient Rome. His bright greenish eyes, deep luscious voice and rosy face had given him away though, "James??"

He looked just as surprised as she was. There was moment where she stepped up to him and stroke his cheek hugging him, then they quickly pulled away from each other animated by their continued astonishment. To meet him in Tortuga, all right, open seas, all right, but a London theater? They blurted out in unison, "what are you doing here?"

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	15. Speaking Of Abduction

Chapter 15: Groundwork

Even if the room kept swimming out of focus Jack watched the disquieting vision of Elizabeth Malet slipping into the double bed next to him with some dread. His fears were partly due to the fact he could just about avoid her watchful eyes when washing himself clean of the mud, but would her fingers discover his scars if she attempted contact? That he could maybe avert, still how could he sleep with Johnny's wife with his conscience clean? If he wouldn't have minded such things, he would've long had slept with Lizzie, it was clear there were moments the lass would've not been able to resist him, but he kept thinking about the consequences. What if that would've made things worse between them on the long term?

He inched away in the bed till his arm was hanging off, he was determined this night will not happen. Then again, how long was the king intending to keep him there for? For now, the plan was to pretend to be drunker than he actually was, game he played lots in the past, he would feign to be so besotted he can't get it up.

They were lying there in the darkness for a while, silent. He could see her fine contours, smell the scent of her hair, he knew how scarcely she was dressed. What did she want with that perfume on for the nigh? Did she want to seduce her husband back to her? He felt something tingling down there, what should he think of to quieten his manhood? Oh, Barbossa should do. He thought of the mutiny, his old first mate kidnapping Elizabeth...his Lizzie. He was smiling when picturing her frame, almost completely asleep when he felt soft fingers wonder into his palm. If Lady Rochester wanted to hold hands, he could do that. He entwined his fingers with hers willingly, wondering just what kind of relationship the married couple could've had. There was all this animosity on the surface, but then there was her concerned look when helping him into the house, her making sure he had something good to eat to settle his stomach, the way she caressed his wrist. So much warmth in that touch, nothing to do with sexual desires. A bit like him and Lizzy, they sure bickered a lot just to hide that deep caring.

His fingers moved back down to his and she squeezed them strongly, taking a big breath at the same time. Unmoving and with the same amount of force, she hung on to his hand with some desperation before he encouragingly squeezed back a little.

"Tell me one thing John," he could hear from her voice she was crying, "your eyes...are your eyes still shining for that actress?"

From George's helpful ramblings, Jack knew who she was talking about again, although he couldn't actually remember the name. Aye, that actress, who ain't no looker and there's a self-loving air about her. A user. Pfuj, that manner, it actually reminded him of Barbossa. Whether Johnny would've loved that wench, he didn't know, but Johnny was far and it didn't matter. Why sadden this lovesome woman? "Have you seen me eyes shining in that way of late?"

"Then I don't care even if the devil's in you," she turned towards him and shifted her leg so that it could slide up on his. Her bare knees touched the spot between his legs and rubbed against the curvy hills of his balls under his nightgown.

Soon they were both breathing faster, the coldness of the northern night forgotten as her half open mouths searched his. Under the covers, but with only the protection of their nighties he could feel her breasts and hips pressing against him. His mind still resisted the encounter, but his body wasn't so sure. How could he disappoint her after what he had deduced had happened between her and her husband? She loved him so much, accepted him with all his faults. All she wanted was a share of him in her life.

He pulled his mouth away from hers and chose to bury his face into her neck instead, the kisses were less personal there. The rest came more natural to him when he finally folded his arms lightly around her and gave up the thinking. It was crazed and deceptive, but he simply wanted to share this moment with her, be with someone who possessed the capacity to love as he did love his Lizzie, the way he shared his Lizzie with the man in her heart, Will.

She moved completely above him, "I will speak to you of abduction..."

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	16. Weigthy Evidence

Chapter 16: Weighty Evidence

Gibbs made sure Barbossa was fast asleep before venturing to the draft where the brig was. He had to be thankful that his new captain didn't maroon him for his ever so lasting loyalty to Jack and make sure it stayed that way. There wasn't much chance of Jack getting his ship back if he was off it as well. He watched the heap of a man chained to the wall in the corner warily. He sure was Jack's brother, so much he looked just like him, but was he friend or foe, that's what he had to to find out. He already knew most of the story from Elizabeth, but he hoped if he could talk to him it would be more clear for him what to do. Gibbs was still the first mate, he still had the keys, but he wasn't going to let him loose. However, he let himself in the cell and sat down opposite the man, raising his bottle, "rum?"

John nodded warily and took the bottle slowly, "to Joshamee Gibbs, I drink a pledge. Loves him, but recognize his captain he can't. He's done naught to avert this misfortune. He wants to, but he can not."

"What name should ye go by lad?"

"Lord Rochester."

"Aye, not amongst pirates, son. And by what Mrs. Turner said Jack should have that title too. But he's more happy with captain now, isn't he? Do you have any idea what's going to happen to ye? Tomorrow, ye'll be marooned on an island, no water, no rum, no food."

Johnny shrugged, "you're telling that to a man who's thrown away his own great gift, used his strength of will to bad ends and can't tear out no evil, perverse to respond to the call of the flesh."

"Aye, that's something I'd like to know. What made you do this self destruction to yerself? What ye hate yerself fe lad?"

"Here's an agreement Mr. Gibbs. You tell me about the nature of your love for Jack and I'll tell you about our childhood if the night is long enough and we'll have rum," to Gibbs' stupefied face he added, "the love that makes you so scared without Jack, the love that makes you climb up to the crow's nest so you can watch him from there undisturbed and unsuspected for hours, the love that makes you sigh and stare out to sea, the one that makes you go with him on any crazy adventure without asking where. The love that will never let either of us feel complete. Now, was it anything I said Mr. Gibbs or you just lost your keys to the rum cellar? I knew about your feelings towards him since I thought about you bringing his breakfast every morning to bed although he had not asked for it as captain. But as he never noticed I could not show I did, could I?"

tbc


	17. Commissioned

Chapter 17: Commissioned

"You explain first," Elizabeth urged James softly, while pulling him into her shaking arms once more, this time, for longer. "I wasn't sure, I saw they had you, but I couldn't make out how bad your injuries were from that far."

"Well, I died," James shrugged apologetically, "but I was on the sea and what's more the Flying Dutchman was there. I was offered the same deal as most, the chance to serve and I took it. Not much later, as you know, Turner became captain. He didn't as much as ask me about it, he just freed me and dropped me off here, I don't even know why. Perhaps he felt guilty for ruining my life too, he didn't tell me though. I started over, James Norrington had to die, privileges or not, there was nothing there for him to live. My name's James Harris, I'm a stage actor, a quite successful one at that I became over the last few years if I may. But now that you're here..." He let out a sigh that could've considered joyous under some circumstances, "I'm no admiral anymore, but can I help you with anything?"

"I can here to look for Jack."

"Jack? Sparrow? I'm not sure he could pass undetected."

"Probably not. Uhm...do you know Lord Rochester then?"

"Who doesn't know Lord Roch...oh no, no, no, no, no! It can't be. I didn't think his recent odd behavior was worthy of worrying about, he's always queer and unmatched at that, inconsistent on top of that..."

"Tell me about it."

James raised an eyebrow, studying her, "you know Lord Rochester?"

Married woman or not, Elizabeth blushed. That was answer enough for James, Wilmot didn't leave many hostages. He had that shocked in his hurt look on his face, Elizabeth had to move on to take James' mind off imagining the details of that meeting, "I found out from the servants at Jack's father's house that Jack came here to negotiate letters of marque from the king. His brother, John...eoo...Lord Rochester was meant to play Jack till he came back, but Barbossa's caught on, the Pearl is gone and I can only hope he'll not kill the earl. I need Jack to get back as soon as possible."

"Curious story you've got there my dear," king Charles stepped out from behind the door leading to his current mistress Lizzie Barrie, "I should've known something was off with Johnny. He didn't do anything to shame himself or anyone."

tbc


	18. Demesne

Chapter 18: Demesne

"And how long will you devote yourself to the house this time John?" His mother asked him the next day at the dinner table, oblivious to the fact her other son was sitting opposite her, "a man of your breeding, a disbeliever, a heavy drinker, with engagements at the theater. If you can't direct your sheer will, you can use God to guide you."

"Mother, I shall in all things endeavor to serve him," Jack gave the customary answer he was thought to say when a child without thinking. He had long learned to treat her like you treat a wall, know it's there, corner it when you have to, but nothing more. A mother he had never had here, only the woman Teague used to live with on his ship.

His mother looked up, a bit surprised, but satisfied with the answer. Maybe he did finally see sense, at least for the time being. She didn't have much time to plan how to get him to church though as Alcock stepped in, "my lord. Mr. Harris' here with a message from the king."

"Indecent acts with other men and received in themselves the due penalty for their perversion," his mother quoted from the Bible, as if happy about the possibility of some judgment being passed on her son. It was better to see him punished for his sinful acts than living with such a shameful, atheistical son. If she didn't do something about converting him herself, God will punish her for that instead.

Evidently, neither of the women really knew that Mr. Harris was from the theater, John's wife would've not jumped up in concern with wide open eyes, stepping next to who she thought was her husband and put a hand on his arm.

Jack awarded her with a smirk, "never fear me darlin, the pleasure of having had one such as yourself in my arms for a fleeting moment was enough payment for any punishment that may come," he said, hoping it was poetic enough.

Elizabeth Malet looked at him sadly. It sounded honest, but it could've only been sarcasm he had aplenty of. "Wouldn't it be simpler if there was no make-believe? It's not payments I fear."

Jack wondered for a moment what could he have done wrong this time, but there were more important things on his mind. "Excuse me," he bowed courteously towards the ladies departing, then solved the situation quickly by unexpectedly grabbing Elizabeth around the hips and pulling her close for a short, but savage kiss, "I have to go." Once on his way down the stairs he waved at the servant, "bring my sword along!" Somehow he doubted Norrington would come to share pleasantries from the king, or even that he was sent by him.

The servant however didn't move, "I heard the story of the Rochester twins you see. I wonder why the tombstone out there for Jack Wilmot if he stands in front of me."

"Ye want to be dismissed from service for insanity?"

"Jack, or John, my lord, you're still the highest bidder. I would not serve anyone else than Lord Rochester, whoever that might be."

"And just what makes you think there was a personality change within me?" Jack thought he might learn something new about how he should behave since Georgie wasn't around.

"For starters you don't know my name, then you don't call me cunt and shout for drink all the time. Or ink for that matter. And where should I get rum from may I ask? Should I walk to London Port and back for it?" Alcock shouted as he ran one row of stairs up and threw him down the sword he requested.

"Well, that's interesting enough," Jack mused, "along with this," he added as he entered the waiting room downstairs where Norrington was, "what can I do for you and our king Mr. Harris?"

"Drop the act, Sparrow. The king has reinstated me as commodore and I have direct orders to escort you immediately to gather up a rescue party for the saving of one Johnny Wilmot. What's the king so fond of?" He rolled his eyes.

"Who says I'm not him? You? I'm not willing to give up what I came fe because of one commodore wannabee harum-scarum. I shall convince the king otherwise," Jack held on to one of the curtains in his swaying talking confidently.

Norrington sighed, "here's your letters of marque you came for," he threw them over onto the table. "I said we don't need them to persuade you, and we don't. All you need to know is that Barbossa's got your brother."

"And the Pearl," Jack continued, not surprised. He was almost expecting it. Isn't that what always happens when he doesn't keep watch?

"But the king wanted to make sure you help his dear Johnny anyway. If it was anybody else, he would've taken his head years ago, but no, he will do something great for me one day he says. Jack can't be punished either for assuming the role of Lord Rochester, cause well, he is Lord Rochester." James wasn't sure who he despised more, the older, or the younger of the brothers.

Jack looked over the documents and found them in order, "well, I must be off," he turned with them.

"Where do you think you're going?" James placed his sword in the way of his exit.

"Saying good bye to my wife," he motioned towards the woman just coming down the stairs, "I'll be in sight, commodore."

tbc


	19. Plop

Scene 19: Plop 

"Oh, please! You make me walk the plank?" John frowned while marching swiftly towards the end of the board. It's not dying he was afraid of. "How exiting. What do you think I am? A pirate?" He spat scornfully, "if you want to strand me, then why don't you take me to that strip of sand you promoted to island over there?"

Barbossa's eyebrows jumped, "well of course my lord and I'll steer the ship into shallow waters. Right after ye deprive us of yer noble presence," he mock bowed, "that's the way it always is with your kind, isn't it?"

John peeped down and pouted. He had committed all sorts of sins in his life, adultery, lies, high treason, legerdemain, abduction, homo eroticism, sadism, accessory to murder and insurrectionism, yet he was going to die for something he had no hand in. Barbossa didn't even have a reason other than just wanting so. "Against false reasoning I inveigh."

Barbossa laughed. He didn't anticipate it, but it looked like marooning the little brother was going to be just as a hearty experience, than doing the same with Jack. "What was that little Jack? Anything to save yerself? If ye have somethin' up yer sleeve, than speak of it!" 

"Your reason hinders, mine helps to enjoy,  
Renewing appetites yours would destroy.  
My reason is my friend, yours is a cheat,  
Hunger calls out, my reason bids me eat;  
Perversely, yours your appetite does mock:  
This asks for food, that answers, 'what's o'clock'  
This plain distinction, sir, your doubt secures,  
'Tis no..."

"That's enough," Barbossa stomped on the plank, making it sway, "would be contemptuous to flatter yersef too much with such philosophy. An island will do ye a good deed ye cod, plenty of occasions to commiserate into song," he frowned, "I'm no mate of Jack, but it'd be sorrowful to make him be ashamed of ye."

John was suddenly shaken off balance and tumbled down in a rather unsuspected and unnoblelike way. His last words could hardly be heard over Barbossa's chuckle. "But I can't swim!"

"Gah!" Barbossa moved his head disdainfully, "soft or old trick, does anybody care?"

tbc


	20. So Long

Chapter 20: So Long

"What does the king want to do this time?" Elizabeth Malet demanded from Jack with a worried expression.

"Ah, nothing much. Redeem myself, privy commission, follow the redcoat to the Caribbean at once..."

"The Caribbean!" Elizabeth put a hand in front of her mouth, "he's sending you into exile! I don't want you to go!" She gave into her emotions, "wait John, if any of that love you write to me about still exists in you, let me come with you!"

"No, Elizabeth. The king sent me and me only. I swear it is the truth, not banishment, commissioning. It's too dangerous on the seas and you're pregnant."

"When did you ever care I was with child? When did you ever care about your children? Afraid I would get in the way? Whorehouse? Inn? Theater? You need those things, every man needs them, but you need me too John, you're slipping, you have been for years. Let me help you," she begged.

Jack slowly reached out to wipe a tear off her face with his thumb. She seemed so desperately in love with Johnny, something that wasn't reciprocated. Johnny might never come back, one way or another. Even if they found him he might not want to come back to this place, all men of the family seemed to chose to flee. He had to make it all better for her somehow, to give her hope, give her his love instead. He gently pulled her in his arms and their lips met for a yearning kiss, fueled by that unfulfilled desire they both harbored.

She looked up in his eyes and he tightened his arms around her waist while answering her, "I'll come back to you. I always do, don't I?"

"As a last resort..." She touched his face, giving in to her fate once more.

"No. Because you're mine. You dug in your heels and spurn and shun the other men. You would only embrace your dear abductor. And when you're next to me," he whispered into her ear, caressing it with his voice, "so close to me, mine like this, so unflawed and subdued in my arms, tasting honeyed, yes I need more of you. You, indeed a fool of mine..."

She pulled back and looked into his eyes to see the truth and that gaze in that moment gave her all she wanted, there were no doubts left, no hurt, no anger, no disarray.

He felt her relax in his arms and she leaned to bring her lips to his till kissing each other devilishly they fell to the stairs behind them.

She knew it wouldn't last, but right now she needed the comfort offered by that men she loved from the moment she laid eyes on him. The corset was ripped and her body was moving like a musical instrument under his versed hands, hands that were always doing wonders to her, the softest of touches, a bit of pressure waving on her skin, following each curve of her body till it got to one little sensitive curve under her skirt. His wet tongue found the same spot afterwards.

She tried to breathe, but she couldn't, then bit into her own lips, not able to withstand the sensation in silence any longer and he gave in to her need making a smooth, single motion to enter her. "I made you mine, you see? You're mine, always." They continued feral and rough, her legs tight around his hips, their encounter driven by a thirst anticipatory of them never meeting again. Deeper, harder, frenzier till the shuddering culmination that consumed them both and a bliss that made her forget why this was happening even through her tears.

Never coming out, he took one more moment to caress her cheek, flushed from their lovemaking and the shed tears as a way of come down from all that exhilaration and she leaned back to watch him, frozen in space as he moved slow and shallow inside her. It felt as if there was no other woman, it never were.

Then Jack humphed at her expression, pulled his cock out and smacked her on the bottom lightly, but authoritatively. Still air headed from the effort he stood to leave, "you're the one I keep. Evermore."

tbc


	21. Plunge

Chapter 21: Plunge

John found himself on an outstretched strip of land that obviously only connected to the island when the tide was low. He was lying confused and spread out on the sand, the waves lapping strangely calm in front of him for something that was just trying to kill him. The Pearl was nowhere on the horizon. The skies seemed just as calm and clear, offering no protection from the dazzling sunshine, but there was some shadow over him in the form of Gibbs sitting next to him. Surprised to see the first mate, in the middle of pouring the water out his boots, John tried to sit up, resulting in quite a lot of coughing and spluttering.

"Easy lad. Ye were well on yer way to drowning out thither, near taking me wit ye. Ye feeling all right?"

John nodded, then frowned. He didn't like thanking people for things. "You jumped after me," he stated the obvious.

"Some madness upon me, I'll tell ye. But I say fe somebody who'd looked death in the eye before and been on the godfesaken land of Davvy Jones' locker bein marooned be no vexation no longer," Gibbs held, "besides, a few weeks, Mrs. Turner and Jack'll find us. They'll go after the Pearl." He encouraged himself. He trusted them to do so, but maybe he was a bit generous on the time scale front.

"But why did you do it?" John asked with an emotionless voice, so much not in his depth. He expected servants and others to attend to his needs for his money, nothing more. Or maybe people to be in awe with him for his brilliance, like the king. But a selfless act like that was really unheard of. Maybe his wife would do something like that, yes, her.

"Because no man deserves to die, especially not by the senseless hands of Barbossa. Because by what Mrs. Turner told me about ye, by what ye said last night, by what nonsense ye had scribbled all over me maps, it was time somebody thought you about the value of life. Some people just don't know it. It can be thought by self destruction, it can be thought by dying, but it's a bit late then don't ye think?"

"Any experiment of interest in life will be carried out at our own expense."

"If yer daft and want to throw away yer life."

"Life has no meaning," John stated simply, "and I know of the fear and grief of losing one you hold precious in your heart."

"But no by death, aye? Ye think ye should argue wit the men who jest saved yer life? Ye clung onto me half conscious. Ye didn't want to die. Anything else than that is a lie. So grow up son, time to take some responsibility fer yer actions. Yer missin out on true friendship, the one I have wit Jack, impulses of the flesh disregarded, yer missin out on love, love poet ye be! It'll be a sad day when we'll measure that on paper and rhyme."

"That blunt manner! I take it you don't like poetry then? Works like a drink you see, drowning sorrows."

"I tried that son, it doesn't work. I drink to enjoy, not to drown sorrows and if ye do, ye no being fair to yerself there either. And the wenches. What do you need so many fe? Happiness no be in numbers. And since yer life is dear to me as I jest saved it, I don't want ye dying of heat stroke, so why don't we move under the palms for shelter and continue there?"

Tbc


	22. Comfy

Chapter 22: Comfy

"We'll get the Pearl back, Jack," Elizabeth walked over to him sitting on a barrel aboard the Empress, with his head tilted back at the bulkhead. "It was seriously damaged in the battle and it would've needed a lot of sheltered careening at Shipwreck Cove. If it's not there, maybe somebody'll tell us where it's off to."

He glanced at her, than stared out at sea, not answering. Elizabeth took it as a sign of sadness and sit down next to him, echoing his posture. For a moment they were just absorbed by the picture in front of them with the last rays of sunshine coloring the originally sheeplike clouds pinkish.

Unnoticed by her, he leaned even a bit more back so that she was in his sight. With that light in her face she looked so much part of the scenery, so sightly, as if divine, her expression that of a true king, taking in all the beauty and the sorrow intrinsic to the seas, but determined to face whatever came upon her. He couldn't help, but be proud at his role in the becoming of Her Highness Captain Elizabeth Turner. He was even responsible for that Turner at the end, although sometimes he wished he wasn't. He wanted her to be his wife, to be loved as much as Elizabeth Malet loved her husband. The fool, he didn't even begin to cherish it.

Elizabeth however, didn't dare to look back at him. If she would've, she wouldn't have been able to stop at just looking at him. She wanted to be able to touch him, hold him, ride him, have the freedom from conventions she had experienced with John while she thought he was Jack, and even after. She had already cheated on her husband, it didn't matter now. She had to let Jack know she wouldn't mind being more to him than just a friend. Leaning her head on his shoulder was a start, she contemplated how should she let him understand how much he means to her without giving herself away in case he didn't feel the same.

"I don't want the Pearl back," he finally answered her, stating flatly, his hand wondering to her shoulder to hold her closer, "I'm only going back for Johnny."

"You do not want the Pearl? What about your effects? Your compass?"

"My compass?" He gave a bitter laugh, "it's broken you see. It has only been pointing in one direction for the last few years."

"And what direction is that?"

"Haven't you guessed, luv?"

Elizabeth pulled herself out the embrace, but only to be able to stand to face him. It felt so right last time she gave into her love for him and she already had a man she loved, but had to wait for, she wasn't going to repeat that by choice till their next year meet up. "Would you maybe ever be able to love me?"

"I don't understand what you mean. Haven't I been seeking yer company, haven't I done things fe ye nobody else would even dare to ask me? Yer long past the damsel in distress phase."

"That's not what I meant. Why is it Jack Sparrow that you don't claim me as yours? Why is it you didn't kiss me when I gave you a chance? Why is it you don't take me in your arms, ravish me and soothe this pain?"

"Would you want that?"

"I'm a pirate Jack. Do you think I care about appearances? Adultery? What would people think? I want to make everything better, for both of us."

Jack's eyes froze for a moment while he digested whether she was really meaning what he thought she meant. Then the little sparkles lit up in there. He put his hands around her and pulled her closer, making her straddle him, "Lizzie..." He hardly managed to slur anything out his mouth, but he'd still have to make sure he didn't misunderstand. She wanted to make love to him, it was clear and he'd accept that any day from such a woman. But was it more she wanted? "Why me fe comfort?"

The response surprised him, he didn't even date to hope, "loving is comfort, isn't it Jack?"

tbc


	23. Solid Ground

Chapter 23: Solid Ground

"Should I become a bore? When Innocence, Beauty, and Wit do conspire  
To betray, and engage, and inflame my Desire,  
Why should I decline what I cannot avoid?" John defended his choices, nudging his oyster to fry in the ashes of their fire. Weeks had past, some days they didn't utter a word to each other, yet they were back to the same subject now.

"That's coming from a blighter who messed up wit those moment's pleasures that much we're sitting hither fe God only knows how long?" He wasn't a man to tell people what to do or even talk much as a matter of fact, but it had happened before that he found himself suggesting Jack things if he thought his captain has taken the wrong path, not that he took to his advice all that often. He sighed at the ignorance of the young man and decided to maybe go on a slightly different topic. It was rather boring just to try to catch some fish. "Is she handsome? The one who made ye lovesick at the playhouse."

"Not known to be a looker, but flesh and blood cannot hold back and not long to have her."

Gibbs raised his eyebrows, "has she wit?"

"Too much I'm afraid. But will I have loved her if she didn't?"

"Did she ever show signs of loving ye?"

John looked away, "no. She's her own creature, wanting to be wanted for who she is, not anybody's mistress of wife."

"Well, there's yer answer my lord. Men in love never be reckoned wit. If there's no love shared, ye must forget about her."

"What do you give a damn for?" John was annoyed having to listen judgment being passed upon him. He'd always treated servants and the common folk well, but would've not normally talked to the likes of Gibbs. "It's love, Mr. Gibbs," came his displeased outcry, "not much of a choice."

Gibbs raised his shoulders a little, "didn't mean ye have ta like it when ye choose. Ye said it yerself, love is no choice, ye can not make her love ye."

"You need not say anymore!" John stood angrily. He didn't even know how he'd survived with this man and no drink. Especially if someone pissed him off like that, he would be shouting for his bowl by now. Sober! How how long has he been sober for now?

"Lord Rochester!"

John waved him off, walking back towards the trees, just to hear him trotting after him and pulling Jack's spyglass away from his belt. By the time he turned to see what the fuss was about, Gibbs had already opened the telescope and was looking through it.

"The Fledgeling Witch! And by the way Captain Teague be regarding us two with his own spyglass, he be looking fe ye!"

tbc


	24. Maturate

Chapter 24: Maturate

As Jack pretty much expected it, the Black Pearl has long left Shipwreck City by the time the Empress made its way to the other side of the Atlantic and Jack found himself feeling strangely neutral to the fact. Lizzie was with him, Lizzie was willing to marry him after they've dealt with this situation, that was all that mattered. He did miss captaincy, but then again he hasn't been a captain for most part of his life if he would've cared to admit it. No matter though, that was a problem for another day. However he really wished he could have a few unchosen words with a certain other captain, who's ship was anchored right at the entrance of the harbor. He marched up on the deck of the Fledgeling Witch unstopped by anyone, the crew always thought it was best not to interfere with Captain Teague's son. He barged into the captain's quarters to find himself face to face with newly clean shaven himself. Not having to play someone else anymore, John got rid of the lots of hair on himself and of Jack's clothes too.

"Where are me effects?" Jack demanded.

John motioned towards the bed and immediately handed him his hat. Somebody must've tipped him off about the importance of that. "Is it not expected a man should be fond of seeing some damned old family?"

"Not if said family knocked him in the head for getting his ship."

"It wasn't me, Jack."

"Maybe I'll dare to trust that for the moment," Jack looked John in the eyes, weighing him up. Impertinent, with a touch of sadness and mystery, just like him. He wondered if Elizabeth could tell them apart now, if all outer appearances were the same again. He smiled, unable to avert his eyes from those others that mirrored his. If they could only have some of what they once had once, the bond they thought noone could break, the bond that made them survive their parents. "Ye can go back to England," he let on, "the king's all fe it, mate."

"On one precondition, Jack. You stop that woman from suffering and take her as she wants you to take her."

"Lizzie? It's been well and truly done, Johnny, on the way here. And I'm no intending to let her go either. Although...yer wife wasn't so knowing to find out me wasn't you. And I promised her I loved her and that I'll be back. You would be back."

John waved him off, "joys she'd keep in store my lady. Yer Gibbs was already on that, a thousand oaths he made me make, such a devoted servant, oh I miss my Alcock."

"Alcock! Right, that's the name, I could never remember the cunt," Jack mused remembering what the man told him back at Woodstock, "but Gibbs' no servant, mate."

"He's so much more I envy you," John admitted, then stepped forward, "what a foul trick men have got of kissing one another!" He said as a cue for embracing him.

They silently hugged each other for a moment, their minds reverting back to a state they'd lost so long ago by no fault or will of their own, something they could never have back. They both had their lives, neither comfortable with the circumstances of the other. It was only that this time they had the chance to that good bye that was missing from their hearts for thirty years so they could really let go.

"Ye all right?" Jack finally broke the silence. He still didn't know what had happened with Barbossa.

"Yes, although I may never look at sea food again," John finally pulled back from the embrace, "everlasting love go along with thee, Jack."

"Go on and prosper," Jack reciprocated calling back as he left the cabin where he bumped into Gibbs, in a rather merry state and steaming.

"Should I call ye me lordship from now on, Jack?" He laughed.

"Captain Jack Sparrow as always, me dear Gibbs."

The End.

thanks for reading everyone!


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